


Not So Bad

by fearofsilence



Series: Stonathan Week 2017 [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: (but really just annoying boy with a motorcycle), Badboy!Steve, Day 4, Detention, Jonathan is hella ooc but I had fun, M/M, Stonathan Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:20:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearofsilence/pseuds/fearofsilence
Summary: “I had no idea you were such a bad boy, Byers. Who’s been corrupting you before I’ve had my shot?”





	Not So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4: Cheesy but Delicious!
> 
> Late again.  
> I was going to write a light and fluffy fireman!Steve, but it turned out... not so light and fluffy. Turns out housefires are heavy shit. Imagine that.  
> So you get this drivel instead. My sincerest apologies.

“Holy _shit_.”

As if Jonathan wasn’t already wary enough walking into Miss Broussard’s classroom after school. There sits Steve Harrington in the back corner by the window, clad in his leather jacket despite the fact that it’s boiling. Jonathan wishes he could turn right around and walk out but-

He can’t.

Because he has detention.

For the first time in his life, Jonathan Byers has to go to detention.

(For the most inane reason as well. Surely working on his portfolio is just as – if not more – important than French class. French isn’t going to get him the scholarship he needs to go to NYU.)

Steve smirks as Jonathan trudges in and takes a seat at the front. To his chagrin, Steve takes the chance to move to the desk right behind him when Miss Broussard isn’t looking.

“What the hell did _you_ do to get detention, Byers?”

He’s whispered it, but Miss Broussard’s owl ears hear all. She looks up from grading papers, red-framed glasses perched low on the bridge of her nose, to scold him.

Wow. A minute in and Harrington’s already been admonished twice. Jonathan thinks maybe he should keep a tally.

He begrudgingly gets to work on the French assignment he missed, all the while trying to ignore the finger jabbing at his shoulder blade. Steve, however, is relentless and refuses to leave him alone.

Jonathan supposes he can’t blame him. Being in detention _every day_ has to get awfully boring. You’d think one would learn to behave themselves, but…

“Come on, tell me!”

“Mr. Harrington, I’d be happy to give you detention for the rest of the week.”

Jonathan can practically hear Steve’s cocky smirk when he says, “Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty.”

“With Mr. Lundgren,” she adds. Jonathan winces; Lundgren’s a notorious hardass.

Steve, of course, is unfazed. “Now, Miss Broussard, that’s just unfair. I thought we had something here.”

“Other than eternal disdain?”

Her exasperation is obvious. It’s much the same way Jonathan feels at this point.

“You wound me, Miss Broussard.”

“Do your homework, Harrington.”

Jonathan is grateful for the temporary reprieve. But that only lasts about ten minutes before Miss Broussard gets up to use the bathroom, fixing Steve with a warning glare on her way out.

Steve starts in again as soon as she’s gone. “So what’d you do?”

Jonathan sighs, defeated; he knows Steve won’t give up until he gets what he wants. So, he answers, “I skipped class.”

Steve gasps. “ _You_?”

“Yes. Now leave me alone.”

He doesn’t.

“I had no idea you were such a bad boy, Byers. Who’s been corrupting you before I’ve had my shot?”

Jonathan’s cheeks flame. He’s glad Steve can’t see his face, or he’d never hear the end of it. Still, he hides behind the fall of his hair.

“No one’s been _corrupting me_ ,” he argues. “I had work to do in the darkroom.”

Steve snorts. “Of course you did. You’re always in that damned darkroom. Glorified closet, really. Though I suppose it’s a good hiding spot to smoke, or… do other things.”

Jonathan swears he feels cool fingers at the nape of his neck.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Whatever it is you think you’re doing.”

He leans forward, hot breath on Jonathan’s ear. “I think I’m seducing you.”

A shiver runs down his spine. Still, he claims, “Well, it isn’t working.”

“Isn’t it?”

~:~

It began to rain about twenty minutes before Jonathan was set to leave. Now he has to wait for the bus, which he knows is never on time, since his mom borrowed his car this morning when hers wouldn’t start. The bus stop canopy has a crack in it, letting rainwater in to wet the whole bench. So Jonathan is standing, leaning against the side when a motorcycle zooms past.

Then stops.

Then backs up, right in front of him.

Jonathan heaves a sigh. Of all the misfortune…

“What do you want?”

“Hop on,” says Steve. His usual arrogance seems to be suspiciously tempered. Maybe it’s because his hair is being smothered by his helmet.

“I’m not getting on that death machine with _you_.”

“You’d rather wait in the rain for a bus that stopped running…” He checks his wrist. Jonathan can see from here that he’s not actually wearing a watch, and rolls his eyes. “…about thirty-seven minutes ago.”

“Maybe I’ll just hitchhike.”

“And get yourself murdered?” Steve twists around to rummage in the leather saddlebag, retrieving a second helmet and holding it out to Jonathan. “Come on, I’ll get you out of this rain.”

Jonathan huffs, arms crossed over his chest. At this point, he knows he’s being ridiculous. He can’t say he isn’t tempted, but he’s not just going to give in that easy. So he says, “How is getting on a motorcycle going to get me out of the rain?”

And Steve smirks rather sheepishly. “Okay, through it. But fast.”

“Not fast.”

Steve’s smirk turns into a full-blown smile as Jonathan steps forward cautiously and takes the helmet. He climbs onto the back of Steve’s bike and puts the sparkly black headgear on, then rests his hands gingerly at Steve’s waist.

“Gonna have to hold on tighter than that, sweetheart,” Steve shouts over the hum of the engine. “Don’t want you flying off the back.”

Jonathan grumbles but obliges, wrapping his arms around Steve's middle. “Don’t call me that.”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

Steve smells like leather and tobacco and something sweet under all that. He’s warm, too, pressed up against Jonathan’s front. He can’t help but close his eyes to the harsh wind and rain and just _feel_.

He doesn’t even realize they've made it to his house until Steve speaks.

“Not so bad, eh?”

Jonathan’s just happy to have gotten home in one piece.

(Or so he tells himself.)

(Because he definitely didn’t enjoy it. No way.)

He detaches himself from Steve's back and hurriedly climbs off the bike, shoving his hands in his pockets after he's returned the helmet.

Steve takes his own helmet off and shakes out his usually ridiculously big hair now gone flat. Jonathan watches (definitely _not_ with rapt attention) as he pushes it back from his face with long fingers. It kind of suits him, the way it curls around his ears. Makes him look less like the showy prick Jonathan’s come to know him as.

Maybe it’s that – not to mention how Steve seemed to genuinely care about his safety – that makes him do it.

Maybe it’s the way Steve bites his lip when he reaches out to brush damp strands of hair from Jonathan’s forehead.

Call it gratitude. Call it stupidity.

Whatever makes him do it, clearly it’s purely animal and not a conscious choice.

Against his better judgment, Jonathan takes hold of the lapels of Steve’s jacket and tugs him up to plant his lips firmly on his. Before he can pull away, Steve is grabbing at his hips and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

Jonathan – though he’s sure he’ll regret this later – goes along with it.

“Whoa, Byers,” Steve breathes once they break apart from each other. “Where’d you learn how to do _that_?”

Jonathan, face now beginning to burn up, turns away to open the door. Over his shoulder, he replies simply, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

**Author's Note:**

> TIL I'm not very good at writing cheesy. I think I hit a few cliches though: detention, bad boy with a heart of gold, kiss in the rain. Enemies to lovers maybe as well?  
> Oh well, hope you enjoyed it anyway.
> 
> I'm on tumblr! @notouchyfeely


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